Fallen Angel
by Cdragon
Summary: A mutant with a seemingly heavenly appearence has a power anything but. After a tragic accident, she ends up at the institute. Secrets are kept, but what happens when she finds out? *This was reviewed recently, so I'm telling you now it won't be updated
1. A life not worth living

Fallen Angel- Ch.1: A Life Not Worth Living User User 2 478 2001-10-21T18:39:00Z 2001-10-21T18:39:00Z 3 1412 8052 User 67 16 9888 9.2720 85 

Fallen Angel

By Cdragon

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men Evolution.

Chapter One: A Life Not Worth Living

Seattle, Washington

9:00 PM

She walked along the desolate rubble.  All of it blackened and charred.  The gray, dreary drizzle gave way to more of the rubble, washing away the dust and ashes, reopening the wounds.  It had been just over a week since everything she loved and cherished had been snatched away from her in an instant.  The worst part was that she had to live with the fact that it was all her fault.

A freak.  A mutant.  That's what she was.  On her back were two slight ridges.  At will, black feathered wings would spring out.  They were only symbolic, though.  

Black.  A color of darkness. Emptiness.  Death.

That's what she was.  An angel of darkness.  Wherever she went, people suffered.   Or died.  She was a walking curse, in her opinion.  And most agreed with her.  She even knew when it would happen.  She had horrible nightmares or visions just before the person became a victim of her wretched curse.  It would be her.  Hovering just above pile of bodies.  All slain and bleeding.   Her black hair hanging around her form.  Her wings fully extended.  It would be raining the tears from the heavens, the skies almost as black as her raven wings.  She would be wearing a black gown and Romanesque black sandals.  In her hand would be a sword, dripping with the blood of the innocents around her.

It's the vision of the Archangel of Death itself.  And she could do nothing to change it.

Bayville, New York

1:00 AM

Outside the rain continued to pour.  Kurt laid on his bed, still unable to sleep.  It was 1 in the morning, and Storm had called lights out hours ago.  But he just couldn't fall asleep.  

He had been like this for just over a week.  It was a night that seemed like any other, until around 3 in the morning.  A nightmare like he'd never imagined flooded into his mind.  In it was a woman, who seemed young, yet aged beyond her years.  She had black hair, black wings, and a black gown.  She was looking down around her, silent tears sliding down her cheeks, and falling from the blackened sky.

In her hand was a bloody sword, used to kill all the mangled bodies below her.  Nothing but the rain, tears, and blood moved.

The sword suddenly dropped from her hand and she looked up, her pained gray eyes meeting his gaze.  It was then that he bolted up in a cold sweat, to find tears streaming down his own face.  Such torment.  It wasn't what she had done that was so horrifying, but the immense pain she held within.  

Visions of her flooded his mind every time he closed his eyes.  Sometimes flashbacks—just bits of the dream returning, others, a continuation.  These visions plagued his mind.  He couldn't concentrate, he couldn't think of anything but her. 

He pulled himself off his bed and walked out onto the balcony.  He was still in his clothes from the day, a black t-shirt and jeans.  He perched on the rail and looked out over the water, like he usually did when something troubled him.  

_'Who are you?'_ he thought.  The girl's image again came into his mind, looking up at him, her eyes pleading for help, for redemption.  He couldn't stand it.

He headed back into his room, soaked after the few moments in the rain.  He peeled off his wet clothes and began drying off.  He changed his clothes and walked over to his bureau and grabbed his Discman.  Maybe some music would help clear his mind.

It was the next morning.  Kurt awoke to find his CD player still on, though the batteries were shot.

He looked over at his clock.  It was about to be 11.  He jumped out of bed.

"Ah, I'm late!" He said.  He rushed to get dressed and teleported into the kitchen.  He hurriedly grabbed a muffin and a bottle of water.  He ran and grabbed his backpack and was nearly out the door before hand stopped him.

"You know, it's Saturday." Scott said matter-of-factly.

"Uh, right." Kurt said, feeling himself blush.  "I was just…"  He trailed off.

"Kurt, is there something going on?  You haven't been yourself.  It's been over a week and I've hardly seen you.  You're usually jokin' or pulling pranks."

"Nein," Kurt mumbled and started to walk off.

"Kurt, wait.  There's definitely something bothering you.  Why not just tell me?  I don't think you want the Prof to get dragged into this."

"It's none of your business!" Kurt snapped and bamfed back up to his room, accidentally leaving his backpack behind.

"Like, what's with him?" Kitty asked, walking in, hearing the last part of the conversation.

"I don't know," Scott sighed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt sat on his bed, looking out his balcony at the cold gray sky.  Behind him, her heard a light knock on his door.  

"Go away, Scott." He said bitterly.

"Kurt, come on, talk to me." Scott pleaded.

"No.  I don't wanna talk about it." Kurt said.

"Kurt, please." 

"No.  It's private.  Now leave me alone."

"You know what, fine.  I just won't talk to you." Scott said, annoyed.  Kurt could hear his footsteps as he sulked away.

Seattle

"Sarah."  The social worker, Ms. Cortez, said her name again.  Sarah looked up, her gray eyes burning with hatred of the social worker.  She was seventeen, she could live alone.  But o, these people were going to make her live with her aunt, an old woman who was stuck in the dark ages that lived in some small town in New York.  Sarah hated her, but she still didn't want her to die.  But she didn't have much say in the matter.  Her powers were in charge.

She was sitting in the cell in the police station.  She had tried to leave.  She just wanted to disappear, so no one else would get hurt because of her.  But no, the social workers came to cart her off, so she tried to run.  They put out a warrant for her capture.  They said it was for her own good, but she knew that meant nothing.  They didn't honestly care.

"Sarah, your aunt will be waiting for you at the airport in Albany.  From there she'll drive you to your new home in Bayville."  She continued to talk as she led a reluctant Sarah to her car and drove her to the airport. 

Sarah boarded the plane, hoping that she could duck out in Albany when she got off.  Instead, she was met by an escort on the plane, like the kind they stick with little kids when they flew alone.

"My, my, aren't you a lovely little girl?  Your aunt and Ms. Cortez agreed that I should stay with you for the flight." He said.  

"Don't talk to me." Sarah said sourly.  She dropped down in her seat and stared out the window.

"Now don't forget to buckle up," the escort said.

Sarah rolled her eyes and buckled up.  As the plane took off, she secretly hoped her power would kick in, and the plane would crash.  Well, maybe not that.  She looked around the cabin, at all the people aboard.  There was a little boy and his parents, an old woman, and a businessman looking loving at a picture of a woman who must've been his wife.  She'd already killed enough innocent people, and she didn't want to doom these people to that same fate.  She just wished she could curl up and disappear.  End her own live, end the pain, and end the suffering of others.  She really didn't want anyone else to die because of her.

Hours later, she arrived in Albany, exhausted.  She headed straight out toward the pickup area.  She didn't have any luggage to stop for.  She saw her aunt waiting.  Her gray hair was up in a tight bun.  She was wearing a plain blue dress and she held her floral printed purse in her hands.  She was staring, more like glaring, at Sarah over her wire-rimmed glasses.

Sarah had only met her aunt once, but knew her well enough.  When she was 14, her mother came to stay with her much older sister, Aunt Mary, for about a month after she had a fight with her husband.  She dragged Sarah along with her.  Aunt Mary made her wake up every morning a 6 a.m., spend all day doing chores, have dinner at exactly 5:30, and going to bed at 8:30.  Aunt Mary nagged constantly about how Sarah dressed, saying it wasn't right for a girl to wear such tight pants, such baggy pant, such revealing shirts, or such short skirts.  Sarah never dressed like a slut, like her aunt made it sound.  She usually wore tank tops and jeans at that age, and occasionally wore a black skirt that was only a few inches above the knees. Her aunt flipped out one time when she wore a tube top under a zip-up sweatshirt.  Aunt Mary was probably one of the most conservative, old-fashioned people anyone could meet.  

"Come." Aunt Mary ordered.  She led Sarah out to her car— an ancient brown and wood-paneled station wagon.  It was rusted through in many spots, and appeared to be begging to be put out of its misery.

"Get in." she commanded in a sharp tone.  Sarah did as she was told, too tired to even talk.

The began the two-and-a-half hour drive to Bayville.

It was about an hour into the drive when Aunt Mary spoke, breaking the long silence.  

"Now I understand about what happened, and that all your things were destroyed.  I'll take you shopping tomorrow to get you some clothes.  But listen up, I'm not going to buy any of those hussy clothes you kids are wearing."

_'You're talking about clothes?  Your sister just died a week ago.  You need to get your priorities straight.' _Sarah thought.

They continued driving in silence.  After another hour and a half, they finally came into Bayville.  By now, it was around midnight.  Both of them were exhausted.  They were passing through an intersection.  A loud horn erupted out of a truck, as it suddenly overtook the small station wagon.  The sound of screeching tires, tearing metal, and screams followed, leaving behind a sudden eerie silence as the mass of tangled metal stopped.


	2. Amnesia

Fallen Angel

By Cdragon

Disclaimer: I don't own X-men: Evolution.

Chapter Two: Amnesia

Kurt laid back down.  He'd borrowed some new batteries from Kitty for his Discman.  He wasn't listening to his usual techno, but instead his Goo Goo Dolls CD.  He didn't usually listen to them, but he bought the CD after hearing Iris.  There was something about the song that he really liked.  He listened to the song, repeating the words in his mind.  He was glad no one had bothered him for the past couple of days.  Even Scott had left him alone.  It was so annoying, to have seven people want to know every aspect of his life. If there was something he didn't outright tell them, they should leave it at that.  But no, he had some very nosey friends.

As the final "I just want you to know who I am" faded out, an image flashed into his mind.  It was the same girl from his dream, only she wasn't in the elaborate dress or horrible setting.  She stood in a black void, wearing just jeans and a deep red sweater.  She looked like a normal person.  She was staring at him, her eyes still pleading for help.  She suddenly fell to her knees.  Though her mouth didn't move, her voice called out.  _Help me._

Sarah awoke, though she didn't open her eyes.  Her whole body ached.  She couldn't remember anything.  She felt a warmth against her side.  Her eyes flew open.  Slumped against her was a body, unmoving, bleeding.  Sarah was soaked with the blood of the gray-haired woman beside her.  Panicking, she looked around.

_'Trapped.  I'm trapped!'_ she realized.  She pushed the old woman off her and managed to unbuckle herself.  She then tried to force the door open.  It was stuck.  The window was already broken.  She pushed herself out through the broken glass, cutting herself in the process.  As soon as she landed on the pavement she bolted.  She didn't see the brown haired boy as he jumped out of his red convertible and chased after her.

As fast as she was running, the brown-haired teenager was somehow managing to catch up.  She was distraught and continued to run, praying he wouldn't catch her.  She suddenly fell to her knees and screamed as an agonizing pain seared across her back.  She could feel her skin tearing apart as two black feathered wings burst out of her back.

"Oh my god," was the only thing Scott managed to breathe out.  He ran up to the winged girl.  She looked about his age.  She must've been a mutant.  He ran towards her.

Sarah kneeled over.  She couldn't even control her own sporadic breath.  She leaned forward, suddenly finding herself coughing up her own blood.  The last thing she saw was the blood on the ground before blacking out.

"Oh no," Scott said as he watched the girl collapse.  Her wings fell limp and slumped around her.  After a moment, they slid back into her body, leaving two long lines of blood along her back, but no visible wounds.  He knelt down beside her and carefully rolled her over.  He could see her chest slowly rising and falling.  She wasn't dead, but he wasn't sure how badly hurt she was.  She was soaked in blood.  He lifted her up and carried her back to his car.  He stopped and looked back at the tangled heap.  He quickly laid her down in the back seat and ran back.  The truck driver was unconscious, but okay.  He went to the station wagon and peered inside.  A woman lay dead in the front seat.

"Professor!" Scott called out.  Her carried the limp girl into the med wing and set her down.  It was difficult to carry her, her wings had come back out during the ride to the institute.  He ran back out to find the Professor.

Scott let himself into Xavier's office.

"Professor?  Professor?"  He was becoming a bit frantic, not being able to find the professor.  He walked back into the hallway and nearly walked into the Prof.  

"Scott, what's wrong?" he asked.

"You gotta come with me.  There was this accident and then this girl came out of one of the cars and ran but I chased after her and…"  The professor cut him off.

"Whoa, slow down.  Where is she?" the Prof said, picking up the rest telepathically.

"In the med wing, come on!"

The two then headed down to the med wing where Sarah lay.

Sarah woke up to find herself lying on a cold metal table.  All around her were bright lights.  She gasped and quickly sat up.  She looked around, unsure of where she was, or even who she was.  She remembered waking up in pain, the dead woman, the brown-haired boy, and the fear and pain.  Now it seemed worse.  She suddenly gagged and rolled over, coughing up more blood.  That seemed to be the last of it, though.  She pushed herself off the table and stood up.  She felt her wings stretching out.  When she saw them she would have screamed if the same brown-haired boy that chased her and a bald man in a wheelchair walked, or in the bald man's case, rolled, in.  She froze.

"Hello.  I'm Charles Xavier.  What is your name?" The bald man introduced himself.

Sarah said nothing. She only backed away from the pair.  The man had a kind tone to his voice, but it didn't matter.  She was too focused on her fear.

"Please calm down." Xavier asked.

Sarah again didn't respond.

"It's all right." Scott said, "You don't have to be afraid of us, we're friends.  We're not gonna hurt you."  He walked toward her.  Sarah backed into the wall.  She blindly reached over onto the counter beside her, grabbing the first thing her hand touched, which was an empty metal tray.

"S-stay back." She stuttered.

"Calm down, it's okay." Scott said.  He walked forward and grabbed the tray before she could smash  down on his head.  The next thing he knew she collapsed into him.  He turned back to see the Professor with his hands to his temples.

"I had no choice, there was no other way to calm her down." He explained.


	3. Angel Meets Devil

Fallen Angel

By Cdragon

Disclaimer: I don't own X-men Evolution

Chapter 3: Angel Meets Devil

Mondays.  Ordinary boring Mondays.  They were bad enough as it is, but now it was worse.  Everyone was tired and out of it.  Kurt, like he had been for the last week and a half, kept to himself and barely spoke, and always seemed to have his headphones on..  Now Scott too seemed detached.  He was worse than he usually was after Saturday nights events.  He refused to talk about them, insisting that it was nothing.  The Professor simply disappeared on Saturday night, never coming out of his office, or rolling off into the other wings.  Storm, too, had disappeared after Saturday night.  The Professor explained her absence as a visit to her sister's.  Logan was gone, as usual, occasionally stopping by for a meal or something.  So many secrets being kept created an uncomfortable tension between the remaining X-men.

Breakfast that morning was hard.  Everyone was silent, the only sound being that of chewing and silverware clattering against plates.  At one point, Kitty tried to lighten things up, but the moment she cleared her throat she received a group glare.  After breakfast, everyone hurried out desperate to get away from the uneasiness of breakfast.

Scott was the first out, speeding off alone in his car.  Next was Kurt, who just teleported off to who knows where, hopefully school.  The rest of the team was left to walk. 

Unknown to the rest of the team, Kurt had ported just outside the mansion.  He waited until he saw the Professor leaving, with Ororo.  He ported back inside.  He was going to find out what happened on Saturday.

Sarah paced around her small room in the med wing.  In just one day, the Professor had helped her a lot.  She still didn't remember much, nothing more than her name and age.  For some reason, he told her not to leave the med wing and not come in contact with anyone except he and Storm.  She had also overheard him telling Scott to keep Saturday's events a secret.  But then again, no one was here right now.  She decided to do some exploring.  

Her first priority was food.  Storm had left her some breakfast, but she couldn't stand the taste of oatmeal.  She walked out, casually looking into every room that she could open the door to.  There were several more rooms like her own in the medical wing.  It then opened up to an opposite wing and an elevator.  She walked into the next wing.  There was a small library, an office, and two large bedrooms.  She then came to a flight of stairs.  Going up, she found a living room with a large television and several video games littered around a Playstation hooked up to it.  She continued walking.  She passed the front door and room that opened up to a grand flight of stairs.  She continued past and entered a dining room with a long table.  She then entered the kitchen.  After searching for a few minutes, she found a couple apples and a muffin.  She found a knife and a glass.  She poured herself a glass of milk and started to chop up the apples.

Kurt teleported from his bedroom into the dining room.  He had intended to go to the front hall, but slightly missed his target.  Behind him, noises suddenly came out of the kitchen.  The TV had been turned on, and he could hear the newscasters replaying the top headlines.  He figured Logan must have stopped by for a meal and Kurt was ready to bamf out, until a very female voice came from the kitchen that wasn't from the news.

"Ow!" a voice came.  "Dumb apples!"  He could hear the clattering of some piece of silverware clanking into the steel sink and the faucet being turned on.

Kurt was quite confused by this.  It wasn't Rogue or Kitty or Jean or Storm who had made the noise.  He peered into the kitchen, but all he saw was the back of the girl.  Her straight black hair hung halfway down her back, over the gray tank top she was wearing.  She also wore regular blue jeans and black boots.  She reached back over and turned off the water.  With her cut finger still in her mouth, she turned and saw Kurt, who had his image inducer turned off, staring at her.

"Who are you?" she asked. 

"Y-you." Kurt mumbled, completely dumbfounded.  The girl who had plagued his mind for a week and a half was standing right in front of him.  He passed out.

"Oh my god!  Are you okay?  Damn it, speak to me Fuzzy!" Sarah shouted.  She had already poured a glass of ice water in his face.

"Don't call me Fuzzy," he mumbled, barely awake.

"You're awake!  Oh, wow, you nearly gave me a heart attack, keelin' over like that."

Kurt suddenly shot up.  

"You!  You're the girl from my nightmares!" Kurt shouted.

"What are you talking about?  Why would I be in your nightmares?  We've never even met." 

"Who are you?" Kurt asked.  He had the same accusatory voice.

"My name's Sarah.  Sarah Praeger.  What about you? What's yours?"

"I'm Kurt.  Vaughner."  He calmed down.  He was concentrating on her eyes.  They were the same dark gray, but instead of pain, they held fear and confusion.  He could tell the same pain was there, only buried beneath everything else in her mind.

"Vell, Kurt Vaughner, vhat vas all zis stuff about me being in your dreams?" Sarah said, faking a German accent, though coming off sounding a bit too French.

"That's not funny." Kurt said, stifling a laugh at her bad impression, but then taking on a more serious tone.  "Listen, this may sound really weird, but do you have wings?  Like big black feathery ones?" 

Sarah looked a bit startled at this question, but nodded.  

"Watch," she said.  She closed her eyes and winced as her gleaming black wings tore out of her back.  She beat them a few times.  They were wet, and weak at first, like a butterfly when it first comes out of its cocoon.  The were quickly dry and strong.  She seemed quite commanding with her wings spread out behind her.


End file.
